


In Tones So Soft and Low

by cassiejamie



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-22
Updated: 2009-11-22
Packaged: 2017-10-07 13:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiejamie/pseuds/cassiejamie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Jim met Spock's human family members and the one time Spock met the non-human in Jim's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Tones So Soft and Low

_.one._

  
He met Sarah at the one year memorial, curled in on herself while Spock read Amanda's eulogy with numb lips for the second time in his life.

She was an authoritative, broken woman who bore so much of a resemblance to her lost sister that she couldn't be mistaken for anything other than a twin - the soft curls of dark hair, the pink drawn line of lips, sharp cheekbones. Sarah looked almost perfectly like the picture Spock had shown him some weeks earlier, though in that photo, Amanda had been smiling broadly; her sister was frowning. A tear tracked down one pale cheek.

He remembered, unwillingly, how his mother looked every year on Remembrance Day and his throat caught; he'd lost friends and the price of killing Nero had been a piece of himself, but the raw grief on her face had coaxed Jim's mind away from the horrifying recollections of Gaila's body when they'd pulled it from space and the shock of realizing that an entire planet had been sacrificed because he wasn't fast enough.

They never said a word to each other, not that day, but when Jim changed seats, moved to sit beside her, and pulled her into his side, Sarah was grateful for the comfort. And for a moment, Jim wondered if this was how it would have felt to hug his mother-in-law.

_.two._

  
Spock's grandmother had outlived her daughter and Jim had thought that might make the old woman bitter. Hell, his own mother could barely stand the sight of him, decrying how much the blond looked like George; Spock wasn't a dead ringer for Amanda, but they'd shared the same eyes and the same sunkissed skin and the same indescribable _something_ as Jim felt from watching holovids from Spock's childhood.

But it seemed Jim's assumption had been quite wrong: as long as Starfleet would allow it, every month, without fail, Nora Grayson would hail _Enterprise_ if only "to chat" as she put it. She'd ask simple questions about his work, sadder ones about Sarek and the colony, and smiled whenever he called her ko'mekh-il.

She never forgot Jim, either. No matter the spirit of the conversation - sad, happy, bubbling, depressed - Nora always saved a few minutes of her comm time to talk to the man her grandson loved, chastising him when he seemed too skinny and offering whatever motherly advice she could when he needed it.

Of course, Jim tried valiantly to brush off the gestures, uncomfortable with her so easily given affections, but Nora never did give up.

_.three._

  
Nora and Joshua Grayson had raised three children - Matthew, Sarah, and Amanda. To Nora's eternal amusement, her son had given her three grandchildren, Sarah two, and Amanda had brought to the universe Spock, the most special of the brood. (She, certainly, would never admit that out loud, but it was in fact true.)

Those children had added to an already large family and when they in turn married and reproduced... Well, the family reunion was not an event to be missed, no matter how much Spock protested being forced to go. Even Sarek had ordered him, in a rather subtle Vulcan way, to attend, making Jim laugh when Spock recited the conversation for his lover.

It had only been his worries causing him to want to avoid the gathering, waiting until the absolute last minute to board the shuttle; they'd arrived to find the party already in full-swing, water balloons being thrown from all angles by the younger attendees and parents spread out on picnic blankets and on benches, assorted bottles in their hands.

"Uncle Spock!" A little boy cried.

"Spock!" One of the adults called.

Enveloped into a cloud of relatives, the normally untouchable man was hugged and slapped on the back; kisses were pressed to his cheeks and a girl barely more than a toddler climbed up into his arms, clinging to Spock as a limpet would.

Nora smirked as she greeted Jim, hugging him with much the same enthusiasm she had Spock. "Hello, James. It's a pleasure. Now sit and eat - you're both far too thin."

_.four._

  
Rosalie, who'd been an infant when Spock had last seen her, had given the family great amusement the first Christmas holiday after the mission when the man arrived to the festivities with Sarek in tow and she'd begun screaming. Jim had laughed along with the others for a few minutes, until he noticed the haunted dullness in Sarek's eyes.

"Rosie," Jim said over the din of the family, "Come here." He beckoned her forward, putting out his hand in offering, before slowly drawing the little girl into his embrace and lifting her up. It boggled his mind that she had given him such complete trust at this their first meeting, but he was grateful for it when he approached his lover and his father-in-law and told her, "Rosalie Whalen, I would like you to say hello to someone for me. He's my very best friend and his name is Spock."

_.five._

  
Of the people Jim Kirk had the dubious pleasure of calling his family, he'd only ever attempted to keep in touch with one of them. Three years at Academy, five in space, he spent every holiday brushing out his hair, putting on the nicest clothing he could find, and covering any visible injuries before hailing home; he hadn't returned to Iowa for one in a decade, unable to bring himself to even attempt to bear his mother's presence at what should have been happy times. All those years, his heart had ached with the desire to return to Iowa and the people with whom he shared blood ties, only to rebuke the invitations every time: Winona had never sent them with a carefree heart and he was too tired of wasting time walking on eggshells around her.

Yet for the first time in so long, Jim had decided to accept, not out of some misplaced sense of familial duty but with the pride and somewhat conceited longing to show off the man who shared his bed and his life in the flesh to the only family member whose approval he needed. So he'd packed a duffel each for them which Spock had then repacked ("_Despite your belief, I do require undergarments._") and they'd set off for Riverside by car. They'd moseyed through five states over the course of four days until they reached I-80 and Jim floored it, racing along the Interstate until they hit 29; Riverside grew on the horizon as they approached and Sioux City got left behind.

The Kirk family farmhouse was no palace, and although it looked warm and inviting from the outside, the interior was formal and stiff, the same atmosphere that had existed at every single diplomatic negotiation they'd partaken in since they'd begun at Starfleet. He could not begin to imagine how Jim had grown in such a toxic, cold environment, but when Tiberius Kirk appeared Spock understood why he had remained in that house long after he could have left.

Jim's eyes lit up, he threw his arms around the aging man and whispered, "I missed you, Granddad."

Two black, perfectly Betazoid eyes squinted in happiness. "I missed you too."


End file.
